A Community of Exchange

I’m looking out from my kitchen table at ice covered trees today.  I’m home because of the weather, but usually I’d be working at another table in a windowless office at the back of a building on Barton Street in the east end of Hamilton, Ontario. 

I work at a not-for-profit café  called    541 Eatery and Exchange, where our mission is to welcome everyone to the table.  That’s a bold statement!  For the past four years we’ve opened our doors 6 days a week for 12 hours.  The ‘we’ is about 15 staff, mostly part time, and 200 volunteers.  The   volunteers     help do everything – cook, clean, do the dishes, serve our customers, and work alongside our youth outreach worker.  Because of them we’re able to keep our payroll costs low, and that translates into really low prices.  In case they aren’t low enough, we have a pay it forward system that uses buttons as café currency.  No, you don’t have to bring in buttons with you!  We have a jar full of buttons that ‘cost’ a dollar each.  A customer can buy as many as they like, and transfer them over to another jar.  Those buttons are then available to anyone without money that day, to put towards anything on the menu.  You can use 5 buttons every day, so long as another customer pays for them in advance.

This simple system means that our customers are a mixed crew.  It’s not unusual for business people needing a quick lunch to be lining up with one of our community who sleeps rough in the local park.  It seems to us to be a sign of God’s kingdom.  It isn’t always heavenly – sometimes people are having a difficult day, sometimes customers don’t get along (that’s true for everyone, no matter how they pay for their order).  But in general we’ve made deep friendships with people we otherwise would never have met, and have come to love people who get overlooked. 

In a couple of days I’ll lead the funeral service for one of our regulars.  Most of our staff will be there, along with many customers.  Margaret was a character.  Forthright, a wearer of extraordinary hats, she was completely dedicated to dressing up for Halloween or Christmas or Easter.  She tended to talk during worship on Sunday afternoons at The Meeting Place, the congregation I pastor that meets in the café.  She sat at the same table every morning, where she played the board game Trouble with a decided competitive spirit.  Margaret found a welcome at 541.  She had a place at the table, and we will miss her. 

Rev. Sue Carr

Executive Director

541 Eatery and Exchange

www.fivefortyone.ca

This, Too, Was a Gift

The legacy of the late beloved poet, Mary Oliver, was her rare and amazing ability to turn our usual thought patterns inside out and upside down.  As boxes of chocolates fly off the shelves for Valentine’s Day, a friend gave me one of Oliver’s modicums of wisdom.

 The Uses of Sorrow

(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)

Someone I loved once gave me

a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand

That this, too, was a gift.

Imagine someone you love, gives you a box of darkness instead of delicious chocolates for Valentine’s.  What would you make of such a gift?  Would you welcome it?  While I was reflecting on this poem, I happened to stumble upon Nelson Fernandez’s blog ‘A box of Darkness’.  Reflecting on Oliver’s poem, ‘The Uses of Sorrow’, he relates it to the testimony of someone who discovered how precious all of life is when he found his box full of darkness.  He writes:

I recently came across a comment from an individual who reported having Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). He concluded that although the resulting PTSD stuck with him for at least 4 years, the accident instantly made him decide to never waste the gift of life, so, he got both Post-Traumatic Stress and Post-Traumatic Growth. That accident became a defining moment for him.

This coined phrase, Post-Traumatic Growth, succinctly reinforces the gift of growth in darkness which is at the heart of Mary Oliver’s poem.  In reflecting upon my life, I too can attest to what I have discovered tucked into my own experiences of darkness. Within them, I grasped a deeper awareness of my own resilience, a greater sense of myself and even a deeper empathy for others. Usually, with time, the darkness of pain fades, but wisdom remains. Let me conclude with a quote by one of my favourite authors, Joyce Rupp. In her book Little Pieces of Light, she prays the following with a grateful heart: “Yes, I thank you for my darkness, (the unwanted companion I shun and avoid) because this pushy intruder comes with truth and reveals my hidden treasures to me.”

I hope someone gives you a beautifully wrapped box of chocolates on Valentine’s Day.  However, one day someone may also bless you with the gift of a box of darkness. What gift of sweetness might you discover in such a gift?

 - Nancy Wales, csj

King’s University College Student Awards Ceremony

The cost of university education is out of reach for many students. Academic or sports scholarships are available for those fortunate students who have achieved success in these fields. However, many students may have been prevented from belonging to either group because of their background or lack of opportunity. Yet students who demonstrate great promise for future contributions to the welfare of our society may need financial assistance to enable them to continue their education.  I was heartened and amazed at the number and variety of donors, awards, and recipients at the King’s University College Awards Ceremony on January 24.    

Sixty-seven donors presented a total of 102 awards. Some awards were established to honour alumni or former professors. Others represented interests of donors in socialjustice, education, social work, economics, law, science, or community development. But what was most striking was the variety and quality of the students. I was in awe of the ability of recipients whose volunteer work in the community, part-time employment or involvement in student leadership and organizations was matched by their ability to maintain high academic standards. It was a joy to listen to the hopes of these students and the efforts they were making to prepare themselves to make our world a better place. A senior member of the faculty commented to me: “The generous students who work hard and donate their time are also the students who make good progress in their studies.”  May their example inspire people and organizations to assist our young adults to pursue university studies.

-Sr. Pat McKeon

The Burning Sun of South Sudan

On January 12, 2019, five women who are part of a small NGO called CASS (Canadian Aid to South Sudan) founded by Jane Roy and Glen Pearson, left Toronto to spend two weeks with the people of South Sudan.  We visited the people who live in the north west state of this very new and struggling country.  This was my second trip to this area.  I was moved by how the people warmly welcomed us with song, drums and music. The children greeted us at the plane and asked us, over and over again, to take a “photo”.  CASS has been coming for many years and each year the welcome seems to get warmer.  What I have come to realize, is that they do not welcome us only because we are able to bring a little aid with us, as helpful as that is, but that they welcome us as friends.  They seemed so grateful that we have not forgotten them.  In some small way we are witnessing their reality and they ask us to let others know.  They do not want to be forgotten by the rest of world.

The beginning of this new country is still very fragile, but a new peace accord has been signed by the factions in the country.  We attended a peace rally which was historic.  It was a very hot afternoon, and we sat through many speeches that I did not understand because of language barriers.   But I could understand the hope people had for a better future.  I saw in their faces, heard it in their music and dance, and witnessed it in the many hundred who showed up for this rally.

South Sudan has a long way to travel to become a fully functioning country.  The people are tried of fighting, the young want to go to school, and these people want their country to develop and become a fully functioning democracy.  They know it will not be easy, but they want to try.  Because of that, I am richer because I have met so many of these people. I am grateful that I can bring their stories back to  our country.  Together we stand in solidarity for peace because it is a longing living in the hearts of all of us.  - Sister Joan Atkinson, CSJ

ARE YOU HOME?

Early Saturday mornings tend to be my ‘sacred space’ after a busy week at work.  Recently, on a chilly Saturday morning, I cracked open a soft-boiled egg for breakfast. As I peeled back its shell and tough skin, poet Mary Oliver’s admonition, “make room to be astonished by the wonder of it all” surfaced in my mind.  In order to ‘make room’ I consciously peeled back the thin skin of my egg, ‘astonished by the wonder of skin.’  Skin, you may ask?  Yes, isn’t it amazing how everyday, ordinary things can be the gateway to the more sublime?  But I digress.

While I ate the egg, I scrolled through my emails and chose to check out Henri Nouwen’s daily reflection.  I was immediately drawn to its title, “Are You Home?” Well, yes, I thought, I am home.  However, the question Nouwen posed asked something far deeper.   He focused on one of society’s deep-seated ills – “worrying [which] means to be occupied and preoccupied with many things.”  Nouwen went on to point out how, in our highly technological and competitive world, many of us are “all over the place” but seldom at home.  He further reflected on how hard it is for many of us, “to avoid completely the forces that fill up our inner and outer space and disconnect us from our innermost selves, our fellow human beings, and our God.” Nouwen’s poignant closing sentence truly hit home (no pun intended), “One way to express the spiritual crisis of our time is to say that most of us have an address but cannot be found there.”  (Henri Nouwen: Daily Meditation, January 26, 2019)

Home.  Where is ‘home’ for us earth dwellers?  There are many of us who feel like nomads on this earth.  Do we have a place where we are rooted, a place we call home? A place where we feel at home?  It seems to me both the question and the answer lie far deeper.  Are we at home even in our own skin?   Did you know that our skin is our body’s largest organ?  It is our body’s coat.  It protects us.  It helps us stay warm when it’s cold and cool when it’s hot. Skin is tough and stretchy; perhaps that’s why we call some people thick-skinned.  Our skin keeps all our insides in. It is our home.  Then why do so many of us not feel comfortable or at home in our own skin?  This may well have something to do with our outer appearance, though the real challenges usually are not merely ‘skin-deep’.  How we feel in our own skin goes beyond our physical bodies, for true comfort with ourselves is a state of mind rather than what we look like.  We only really become truly at home in our own skin when we accept ourselves, warts and all. 

Might there be something else to aid us with this process of being comfortable in our own skin? Over the years I have discovered that there is another way to help me be more comfortable in my own skin, another way of ‘being home’.  One of my all-time favourite scripture quotes is, “Make your home in me just as I do in you” (John 15:4). When we heed this invitation and make our home in Jesus, we will discover that the spiritual life is about becoming more at home in our own skin.  I remember the day a friend told me how someone she loved deeply made her feel at home in her own skin, and that it was one of the greatest gifts anyone had ever given her.  Being invited to make our home in God, and subsequently feeling more at ease with ourselves, is one of the greatest blessings we can receive.

Jesus himself knew about the importance of a connection to home, which led him to return to Nazareth from time to time.  His invitation to us to make our home in him, reminds me of the first time I heard someone say, “I need God with skin on.” All of us at times have a need for God with skin on, that is, God who is physically real and touchable. Physicality is important in any relationship and especially in our most important relationships.  In the hospital where I minister, for instance, I have witnessed the dramatic positive effects skin-to-skin contact, known as Kangaroo care, has on preemies and full-term babies.

Keeping this in mind, it makes me wonder if it is perhaps not too far fetched to think of Jesus as the ‘skin’ which holds us, the body of Christ, together.  Let us be astonished by the wonder of this – that God’s embrace enfolds us all.

- Sr. Magdalena Vogt, cps